Chapter 9

John tore at the damn cuffs, tried to kick the desk, but to no avail. After his hands started to hurt he finally gave up and tried to think. What else could he do? There was no way in hell he was staying here while Sherlock and Sally went off alone.

And nope, the promise didn´t count. Like they´d believed him anyway. Well apparently not because otherwise he wouldn´t be cuffed to the damn desk.

Then suddenly he had an idea. Of course! He should have thought of that earlier.

"Mrs. Hudson! Mrs. Hudson, can you come up here for a second. Mrs. Hudson!" he screamed on top of his lungs and started to kick the desk which also produced quite some noise.

It took Mrs. Hudson about 5 minutes until she came up. "John what´s..." Seeing his distress she shook her head at him. "Oh dear. What has he done to you? One of his experiments again?" She asked and John nodded.

"Yeah kinda. There´s a boltcutter somewhere in the broom cupboard, maybe you can cut me loose? I really need to find Sherlock."

Mrs. Hudson, being the angel that she was, simply nodded and went into the kitchen to open said broom cupboard. Two minutes later John was free again.

"Thanks." he smiled at her. "No I just have to find Sherlock. Maybe..."

"Well if it helps, I saw him when he went out and he was talking on the phone to somebody. Said something about Stewart Street, but I have no idea who it was, sorry."

John grinned at her. Perfect. "Oh it was most likely Sally. And I just know where Stewart Street is, so thank you." Giving her a short hug he then got his jacket and some money and ran out. So far Sherlock had about 15 minutes on him. That should be doable.

#

Stewart Street was nearly dark when John arrived by taxi about 20 minutes later. Since it wasn´t a long street he was careful when he went in. It wouldn´t do any good to announce himself either to Sally and Sherlock or to Millerson. So far he could only see the normal British family housing ofthe London suburbs on one side and a few halls and businesses on the other. Nothing strange really.

But one never knew and so it was better to be careful. Half way through the street the wind carried a quiet voice over to him, which John knew all too well. Heading in the direction from where Sally´s voice had come from he soon heard Sherlock´s baritone one as well and couldn´t hide a grin.

Did these two really think they could hide from him? From someone who found his way out of the desert back to camp just outside of Kandahar, injured nonetheless? Never. He had even managed to find another soldier in the process and helped him home back then.

So it took him barely two minutes until he found the small business warehouse where Sherlock and Sally were and there he hid in the shadows, watching.

From the looks of it they had already captured Millerson. John could see one person lying on the floor, probably unconscious, through the slightly open door in which Sally was standing, while talking to Sherlock. Both of them seemed to be deep in discussion.

Disagreeing of course. No surprise there, John thought and nearly laughed out loud.

"Sherlock, I´m not sure it´s wise to do it here directly. We should get him to the container. It´s much safer there." Sally tried but Sherlock was already shaking his head.

"No, his men are already on the lookout for him. From the numbers alone they could cover half of the town. We´d be discovered in no time since they already suspect us."

"But anyone could walk in here any minute now..." Sally complained and Sherlock shrugged.

"Well then let´s get this over with.." it looked like they both were headed into the building just as Sherlock shot out so fast that John had no choice but to be discovered. He felt himself being grabbed by his arm and being lead towards the door by his friend and came face to face with an irritated Sally.

"Well let´s get this over with before anyone wanders in, huh? Didn´t you say you tied him up?" She directed at Sherlock, before she immediately turned towards John.

"Damn it John, can´t you stay put for once." She grumbled and all three of them slipped inside and shut the door behind them.

Inside John could see that it was indeed Millerson lying on the floor, still unconscious. From the small blood trickle at his left temple it looked like somebody had knocked him over the head. Probably Sherlock he supposed.

"Okay, Sherlock, you take him home and I take care of our guy there." Sally then said and pointed towards Millerson. She didn´t even wait for an answer, turned around and headed towards a sports bag in the corner, rummaging through.

Sherlock watched her for second before he huffed, clearly annoyed by Sally´s idea and probably her commanding tone. "No."

John was inclined to agree so he added a "No." as well. He had meant it when he said that he didn´t want to be excluded, and that meant Sally´s activities as well. Even when she chose to do them alone.

But from the looks of it he didn´t have to fight anyway as Sherlock didn´t look amused by the prospect of leaving Sally on her own to do the deed.

Sally though was far from amused. Crossing her arms in front of her, her mouth set in a small disapproving line, her eyes went hard. "Well then I guess there won´t be anything happening at all cause I won´t do anything together with him. It´s bad enough we are risking everything but I won´t have anyone else..."

It was at that inconvenient moment that Millerson chose to slowly wake up. So when he groaned and gradually started to move Sally was the first that literally jumped onto the man as she had been the closest. Luckily for her, Millerson was still pretty groggy, but that didn´t stop her from cursing, while she held him down.

"Damn it, is this my lucky day again? Sherlock take John and get him out of here."

John just shook his head and got closer to her and Millerson. Sherlock didn´t seem to take any of her shite either. He had wandered over to the bag, rummaged through it and took out a gun. Making sure that the safety was off, he went over to Sally and gave it to her.

"How about we end this quick." He suggested as Sally nodded and aimed the gun at Millerson´s head, while still literally sitting on him. But before she could squeeze the trigger, the door of the small warehouse gave a squeak. As all sets of eyes, including the still slightly struggling Millerson. shot over to the entrance, said door opened completely.

Staring at the intruder and then back at the scene with Sherlock, Donovan and Millerson, John was momentarily at loss for words. It seemed like everyone in the room was for a few seconds - deep in shock- so John pressed himself to say something.

"Lestrade, this isn´t what it looks like." he croaked more than spoke, expecting the situation to escalate any second now.